


Weasley Family Names

by ThatHCWriter



Series: Weasley Family Collections [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Mother-Son Relationship, Names, Past Character Death, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Weasley Family-centric (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHCWriter/pseuds/ThatHCWriter
Summary: In wizarding families, names are rarely random. They are legacies, reminders, sometimes even prophecies.But to those who carry the names of family who came before them, it can be an honor, and a shackle.Or, members of the Weasley family come to terms with what it means to have their name.Not necessary to read the rest of the series!
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Fabian Prewett & Gideon Prewett & Molly Weasley, Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Fred Weasley II & George Weasley
Series: Weasley Family Collections [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967764
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Weasley Family Names

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, a new installment of this series! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Major character deaths are all canonical, btw.

Fred Gideon Weasley and George Fabian Weasley have always loved their middle names. Their mother would fill their head with stories of the prankster twins, her brothers that made her life that much more interesting with everything they pulled. When they were little, their mother never seemed to care much when they'd pull a harmless prank. In fact, there was always a hint of nostalgia in her eyes; like somehow every act of mischief her boys pulled off was a reflection of her brothers, one last middle finger to the rules Fabian and Gideon hated so much. 

They figured they did a pretty good job living up to their uncles. Not that they were overly concerned about it, but they could tell that in some small way, it made their mother happy. Gave her a few more grey hairs, sure, but none the less made her happy.

It wasn't until that horrible day in May, gathered around Fred's lifeless form, that anyone paid any mind to Fred or George's middle names, or the men that they were named after.

It was too similar for Molly to wrap her head around, the smoke and the fear and the smell of death was all the same, like she was walking through a memory. There was a pain in the eyes of her children that she felt deep within herself, an ache that she had felt years before. And then, there was George. He was kneeling in front of his brother's lifeless body, his hands crossed over his stomach and his face scrunched in a pain deeper than Molly had ever seen.

That's where the difference came in. George was alive, breathing and shaking, but Fred was laying there, cold and lifeless. Molly remembered how Gideon and Fabian had looked, hurt and bloodied and so utterly wrong looking, but still the same. Identical, like they had been from birth. They'd taken solace in that in they days after her brothers died. _At least they weren't alone_ the crowds at the funeral would say to her, _they lived their life together, it's only proper that they're together in death._

That couldn't be the case this time, though.

All their lives, Fred and George lived up to their middle namesakes, until, that is, the war did the impossible, and separated the inseparable.

\---

When Angelina and George Weasley found out their first child was going to be a boy, both of them were too excited to make much of a coherent thought. They embraced right there in the healer's office, happy tears being shed by both of them. Angelina looked down at her stomach, a sense of pride bubbling up in her. 

"Hi Freddie," she whispered, her hand resting carefully on the small bump. George's eyes lit up, breath hitching. 

"Angie, we haven't even talked about..." 

"I didn't think we had to," Angelina said softly, cupping his cheek with pride in her eyes.

They told Molly and Arthur the next day, and they could not be more elated. Molly was always elated when she received the news she was going to be a grandmother yet another time over, but this felt special. That little boy felt like a reprieve, like a coda and a key change to turn the living twin's life around.

And when Freddie was a baby, that's exactly what he was. 

He brought a sweeping wave of joy not only to his father, but to the Weasley family as a whole. People were laughing and smiling and joking again, the closest to normal they'd felt in years. Of course, every grandchild that ran around the burrow was met with happiness and peace, a sense of love that had filled those walls for as long as anyone could remember, but no one could deny it. 

There was something special about George and Angelina's boy. 

As he grew, Fred II only became more of a joy to have around. His laugh was a common and soothingly familiar sound, the lilt mirroring his father's to a degree no one could seem to explain. When he was sorted into Gryffindor at eleven years old, his family wasn't notified by him, but rather, by a letter from now headmistress Minerva McGonagall. 

_I've never seen the hat decide quite that firmly, aside from perhaps Draco Malfoy. His last name wasn't even mentioned. I asked the hat later, I suppose curiosity got the better of me, and it told me flat out "he's one of the truest I've ever seen." Though I'm not sure what to make of it, I figured I ought to tell you._

_I am beyond proud to welcome him into Gryffindor house._

_Kindest Regards, MG McGonagall_

Of course, George asked Freddie about his sorting when he came home for Christmas. Freddie smiled widely, nodding at a frantic pace. "I knew I'd be put into Gryffindor. Just like you and mum, and my uncle..s."

George stilled for a moment. "Are you happy in Gryffindor, Freddie?" He nodded, but George could clearly tell his heart wasn't in it.

"It's what we Weasleys are, right? The brave ones? That's me too, right?" George nodded, resting a firm hand on his son's shoulder and gripping ever so slightly.

"Of course it is. But Freddy, this isn't about us as a family. It's about you. Do you feel happy in Gryffindor?" The boy nodded, burying his hands in his face. 

"Dad?" He asked meekly, almost afraid of his own words, "Why'd you name me Fred?" George almost scoffed.

"Are you joking?" George asked lightly, ruffling his son's short hair. The boy steadied himself, staring at his lap. 

"It's a lot of pressure, you know. All of the paintings, and the ghosts, they act like they already know me. I'm Fred Weasley! It's like I'm him, not myself, like I'm a replacement." George sucked in a deep, contemplative breath and gently let his son rest his head on his shoulder. 

"That's an awful thing for them to do, Freddie," George rubbed his son's back lightly, keeping his voice down, "If it means anything, I will never see you like that. Say, think about it this way. If, Merlin forbid, you lost Roxie when you were older, and you had a little girl one day, and you decided to name her Roxanne, would you think of your daughter as a replacement?" Fred looked almost offended. 

"No! Nothing could replace Roxie...." He trailed off, his face turning down in annoyed understanding. George's eyebrow raised. 

"And I feel the exact same way," George enunciated exaggeratedly, cupping the boy's cheek and swallowing hard, "When my brother passed away, it felt like part of me went with him. It was a truly, truly difficult time. Your mother was the first person that really helped me get back on my feet, but you... The day you came into this world, things were really starting to feel brighter." 

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to his son's, "That's why your mum let me call you Fred. Because you and your sister are really what made me feel whole again."

The two curled into each other, a warm smile crossing both of their faces. Hours later, Angelina arrived home in a huff, before quickly falling quiet. She noticed her husband and son curled close to each other and fast asleep, as evident by George's subtle snoring. With a soft sigh, she set her bag down and approached them, gently resting her head on her husband's unnoccupied shoulder, and draping an arm across her son's back. She settled in, pressing a kiss on her husband's cheek. 

This was bliss, she decided. 

Because no matter what form they came in, Angelina would always have plenty of room in her heart for George, and Fred.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Honestly, I'm considering adding a second chapter with Molly II and maybe James Sirius, but let me know if you'd like to read that! 
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day!!


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